Note – This is going to be fun. Random Liason stories appearing here and there. You guys will never know when. Guess you'll just have to check back at SE more often!
Wild Soul | 01
.: Queen of Angels Cemetery :.
It was raining, and the smoke from his cigarette clung to him like a shroud. Frustrated by the thick cloud surrounding him, Jason growled and flicked the cigarette to the ground, not even bothering to grind it out with his heel. The grass was sopping wet and extinguished it before long, and the rain just kept falling.
It was a gray, muggy, wet afternoon where the cool breeze cut straight to the bone thanks to the oppressive moisture in the air.
It was the perfect afternoon for a funeral.
John Anthony Zacchara's casket was being lowered into the ground. Jason stood back, far away from the crowd to escape notice, and just watched. The group was made up mostly of tall, burly men with silver hair, dressed in impeccable black suits. Bodyguards wearing matching navy suits held umbrellas for their employers. The few children that made an appearance stood somberly by their parents. The women all stood with their hands clasped at their waists.
From where he was standing, he could see just the corner of the mahogany casket being lowered into the earth. Before long it disappeared from view and he saw the first signs of movement among the crowd.
The men went forward first, each one tossing a rose into the open grave. They drew back once the task was completed, their families quickly drawing close to them. The ritual was repeated and after a long moment's pause after bidding goodbye to the decedent, the men began to draw off and head toward their cars where personal drivers stood ready to get the doors.
Before long, only she remained.
She wore a long pencil skirt that hit just an inch above her knee with a matching blazer and black pumps with very high, very thin heels. Her outfit was slightly daring for such a conservative funeral, but she carried herself with grace and elegance even as she stood motionless, as still as the stone angels, staring down into the open grave with the last rose clutched in her hand.
Elizabeth Imogene Zacchara.
The grieving widow.
Jason licked his lips and watched her as she stood like a silent sentinel in the thick fog, unmindful of the fact that everyone else had drawn away. She was his mark, the one he'd been hired to watch and tail since a week or so before John Zacchara's untimely death.
It was his sister Claudia that had been fearful for her brother's life. A mob war had entangled her family, with her brother at its head, in a bitter struggle with rival family heads. From what he had gathered during the course of his investigation, Jason knew that the decedent's wife had played a key role in the struggle, and that Johnny had been determined to keep her safe throughout. In the end, he paid for her safety with his life.
Claudia hadn't seen it that way. She'd hired Jason as the mob war had started fizzling out. Johnny had emerged victorious, coming to own even more property and holdings due to the fact that to the victor came the spoils. He'd had more money and power than his family had ever enjoyed before, and he and his wife both emerged from the turmoil unharmed.
Jason had been confused when Claudia approached him. It was supposed to be a joyous time for the family. By most reports, John and Elizabeth were planning for their future now, and that future included Zacchara heirs to take their father's seat of power when it was time. Instead of celebrating, the oldest remaining Zacchara had been convinced that her brother wasn't entirely safe yet.
She suspected that there was something more going on between John and his young wife, something that neither one of them were letting on. Jason had started his investigation but hadn't been fast enough in uncovering answers.
Johnny Zacchara was dead within two weeks.
He'd expected Claudia to be devastated, and the older woman was. But she knew that this wasn't the time for her to fall apart, and had approached him and asked him to change tacks in his investigation. Now, more than ever, Claudia Zacchara was convinced that her sister-in-law was responsible for Johnny's untimely death.
It was hard to imagine that a woman like that, so petite, so fair with luminous blue eyes, tumbling dark locks, and skin that glowed ethereally, could be a cold-blooded killer, but Jason had been in the business for so long that nothing surprised him anymore.
She held that damn rose clenched so tightly in her hand that he was sure that the thorns were biting into her palm. A light drizzle began to fall as Jason slowly approached, coming up behind her. She didn't hear his footsteps on the wet grass, and Elizabeth jumped very slightly when he appeared next to her.
Jason nodded once, his gaze locking with hers, his stance respectful. "Ms. Zacchara."
She nodded back. "Elizabeth, please. And you are?"
He offered his hand and clasped hers gently, not shaking it, before letting it slip away. "Jason Morgan. I'm sorry for your loss."
Elizabeth nodded absently, turning her gaze back toward the open grave. Her husband's casket sat six feet below, covered in red and white roses. Hers remained in her hand. "Thank you."
She cleared her throat lightly and slid him a sidelong look. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you. Are – Were you a friend of John's? From university, perhaps?"
Jason shook his head. "No on both counts. Actually, I'm a friend of Claudia's."
Elizabeth's lips tightened at the corners at the mention of her sister-in-law, an expression not lost on Jason. "Ah. Claudia – I'm afraid she couldn't make it today."
That was an understatement. Claudia had already bid her respects to her brother and had staunchly refused to appear at the funeral since Elizabeth would be there.
"Yes, I'd noticed."
There was nowhere Elizabeth could run to. Everyone else, including her bodyguards, had drawn away to a respectful distance, thinking to give her one last moment with her husband. It was a foolish mistake, and he'd use it to his advantage to draw a true reaction from her.
His gaze flicked to her downcast eyes. "She thinks you killed him, you know."
Elizabeth's eyes widened and she snapped to attention, her spine stiff and straight, her shoulders squared, but that was all he got from her.
Jason licked his lips and eased just a little closer. "…And so do I."
Her sapphire eyes hardened at that, and Elizabeth turned her head slowly until she was looking him square in the eyes. Jason didn't flinch away. He just stared back at her, daring her to say something, daring her to cry, to deny it, to scream, to hit him, something that would belie her stiff, controlled, frigid demeanor.
Those faintly red lips parted and he leaned forward so as to be sure to catch every word when-
"Ms. Zacchara!"
Gunshots rang out. Screams echoed in the mist, sounding all the more unearthly as the sounds echoed and bounced and were muffled by the fog, and the well-wishers scattered, most of them ducking into their bullet-proof cars.
Only he and Elizabeth were left exposed, right by the gaping hole in the earth that enveloped her late husband. Without even stopping to think about it, Jason grabbed her around the waist and tackled her to the wet grass, covering the length of her petite frame with his, not leaving an inch exposed. She was stiff as a board underneath him, almost burrowing into the earth in an attempt to get away from him, but as the gunshots continued to ring out, he felt her small hands hesitantly fist the lapels of his jacket before she was fairly clinging to him, trusting him to keep her safe in the melee.
Finally, the gunshots stopped and he felt himself flanked by bodyguards. Gingerly, Jason pushed himself up, doing a mental check for injuries. Everything felt fine, some muscles protested with stiffness, but everything checked out.
He breathed a sigh of relief and accepted some help in standing before reaching down for Elizabeth. What he saw made him actually gasp.
She was on the grass, looking wet and rumpled and cold, and there was a large rip in the sleeve of her jacket, high on her arm. She fingered the rip and when she drew her hand away, he saw the sticky redness there on her fingertips and knew she'd been shot.
Elizabeth gritted her teeth against the pain as her bodyguards surrounded her and helped her up, and her blazing eyes found Jason's.
"Do you still think I am the one that killed him, Mister Morgan?"
